


Anything You Say I'll Do

by ermengarde



Series: And it won't be hard to do (A.K.A. Adam wants your braaaaainz) [3]
Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, adam lambert (singer)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-28
Updated: 2010-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermengarde/pseuds/ermengarde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Neil tries to establish some ground rules for Sparkly-Magpie-Zombie-Brother Wrangling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Say I'll Do

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a very slight, very small spoiler for the movie _Zombieland_.
> 
> Familiarity with the previous two (shorter) parts is probably useful at this juncture, but it's not completely imperative. Adam's a zombie (but not undead), Neil's his wrangler, Sutan's got magical glitter and Tommy's a chew toy.

"Sutan..."

"Yes Neil?" Sutan looked up. "Stop lurking by the door; you look like a hooker, honey. A well-fed hooker with an incredibly specific kind of client-base, but still, it's not a good look for you."

Neil straightened up. He was _tired_, leaning on the doorframe was perfectly reasonable behavior. "He needs to go to Wal-mart."

"...Why?"

"We've got a sixteen hour bus-trip ahead of us and..." Neil sighed. "And the label says he needs more candid picture opportunities." He'd been looking forward to a day off from the more irksome of his wrangling duties, it was easy to keep Adam happy on the bus (as long as he kept Tommy's Iphone charged for gaming purposes), but outside meant preparation and glitter and a whole lot of organization. "Lane figured this would be ideal, a couple of hours, a little 'impromptu' meet-and-greet, stock up on movies and munchies for the ride."

"Candid?"

"Yeah."

"So no glittery eye makeup? No rhinestones in his hair?"

"Urm."

"I'll just need to paint his nipples then."

Neil was very definitely _not_ going to ask why. Brotherly nipples were for twisting and other than that they really didn't exist at all. If he kept on thinking that hard enough he might even be able to forget the _Zodiac Show_ costumes.

Lane and Allison (seriously, he loved that kid and her very visible hair) agreed to zombie-sit Adam around the store while Neil picked up the contents of a very, very long list of _essentials_ required on the busses (he wasn't going to ask (a)who the warming lube was for nor (b)why it could be classed in any way, shape or form essential on a bus with tissue paper for walls. He got as far as thinking _well, Adam doesn't need it_ and then his brain rebooted. No one should be that well acquainted with the contents of their brother's wash bag).

It was one of those super-enormous Wal-marts (conglomerate, corporate nightmare, destroying the honesty of a capitalist society) with a really fucking good DVD section, so he picked up all the zombie movies they had that Tommy hadn't already shown him. Adam still wasn't _actually_ undead, but he figured he could do with all the help he could get.

By the time he'd brought the carts (four of them, he was like some kind of cart-wrangling super-ninja) back to the busses he felt remarkably chilled. He'd interacted with real people (or, well, as real as someone running over $1000 of random stuff over an annoying beeping scanner could be) and hadn't worried about Adam at all for over an hour. That and he'd bought himself a whole bunch of useless crap without having to think about how much it would cost. That was _incredibly_ soothing and he was beginning to understand Adam's shopping-as-a-hobby thing; it was fun when you didn't have to worry about leaving enough money so you weren't eating ramen for a month.

He hauled everything earmarked for his bus onboard (the rest of them could fight over the contents of the carts themselves, he was busy) and shoved past Sutan taking Adam's nipular-region sparkle off. Seriously? It was worse than sitting through _the Ten Commandments_. Pierced zombie-brother nipples... Neil shuddered.

The trip around the store seemed to have tired Adam out - the glittery shit always did, but Neil had thought it was more to do with the performance than it apparently was - so Neil settled him in his lair at the back of the bus, all tucked up with _Velvet Goldmine_ on the DVD player and Tommy available for nomming purposes. The bus was quiet, peacefully rolling along the road, nomming noises muted by the closed door (he couldn't hear the slurping at _all_), time for a bit of movie-based research.

_Zombieland_ was _stupid_. Okay, the lead girl was kind of cute and Woody Harrelson was kick ass, but really? Stupid and not at all applicable. He wasn't going to shoot Adam in the head and he certainly wasn't going to do it _twice_...but the rules thing was kind of good. Perhaps he should have rules... He pulled his laptop over and started a new document.

 

  
**Rule One: Enjoy the Little Things**   
`A trip around Wal-mart with the zombie's credit card can be remarkably soothing. A movie loud enough to block out the nomming is also highly recommended, even if it is crap. `   


Neil woke up to cold, wet spit pooling _inside his ear_. "ADAM!"

"Nom?" Adam queried from where he was nomming on Neil's hair.

"STOP NOMMING ON ME!" he pushed at Adam until he overbalanced and fell on his ass next to the couch.

"Ow." Adam pouted at him. Pouted.

"Oh no, you don't get to pout at me, Adam, I'm your _brother_ and it says _in my contract_ that you're not allowed to nom on me." He sat up and the spit ran out of his ear and down the side of his face. It was _revolting_. "Uhrg." He wiped ineffectually with his sleeve. He was going to need a shower. And a bath. And possibly sprayed down with Clorox. "You're only allowed to nom on Tommy, you _know_ that. Why aren't you nomming on Tommy? The bus is still moving, he can't have _gone_ anywhere."

"Tommy sleeping."

"SO WAS I!"

"Tommy _tired_."

Neil didn't know how to even _begin_ processing that bit of zombie-logic, so he stopped wiping at his ear and stood up, dragged Adam to his feet and pushed him back into his room. Then he pulled off his sweater, tied one sleeve to the door handle and the other to the wall-mount for the TV. That should stop any more mid-night zombie wandering.

 

  
**Rule Two: Always Remember To Lock the Door**   
`Ruining a perfectly good sweater was worth not waking up to a gallon of zombie-brother spit in any of your bodily orifices.`   


Neil was incredibly tired and incredibly grumpy by the time they eventually arrived at the venue for sound check. He hadn't managed to get back to sleep after he put Adam back to bed; he was far too aware of the slight dampness in his hair, and what had caused it, and then the busses were late arriving and there wasn't anywhere nearby for them to park up so they had two minutes to pack up and get everything they needed to bring in for the day. Adam, of course, was completely _useless_; he kept hugging his chew toy, picking him up and bouncing him.

"Moar braaaaainz, Tommy! Om nom nom!"

Tommy wasn't being a whole lot more helpful, he was mostly giggling and rubbing his head dry on one of the towels Neil had started keeping on the bus, but at least he was keeping Adam distracted.

Neil started grabbing things from around the living area. "Phone, money, Adam's phone, Adam's money, nail polish..." Neil shook the little black bottle and noted the sparkly bits floating in it. "He'll probably want that, schedule, access pass...Fuck!" Adam and Tommy were headed off of the bus. "Stop guys, just!" He shoved everything into his pockets and headed off after them. If he'd forgotten anything he'd just have to buy another one on Adam's visa. "Hold up!"

They were parked at the back of the venue, and it wasn't even noon yet, so Neil was hopeful that they'd manage to get Adam inside without being spotted; the diehard fans would already be on line, and the casual ones wouldn't turn up for a few hours yet, but Adam wasn't following Monte and the rest of them inside,_ oh fuck_! Adam had spotted some glitter and feather covered girls over on the other side of the parking lot and was heading towards them. Neil broke into a run.

"Braaaaaaaaaainz, Tommy, braaaaaaaainz." Adam had his arm around Tommy and was more or less dragging him along, thank God. Tommy was slight, but still, the extra weight was slowing Adam down significantly.

"Ad," Neil ran in front of them and stood right in Adam's path. "Adam, you know you're not allowed to nom the fans."

"But braaaaaaaainz, Neil." Adam kept trying to look past him, but he had, at least stopped moving.

Neil took a deep breath. "We've talked about this, if you have them now, you won't get them later, and you'll get a lot _more_ if you wait until later on."

Adam pouted, again. It was ridiculous. "But _sparkly_ braaaaaainz." He nommed the top of Tommy's ear. "_Like_ sparkly."

Neil took a deep, calming breath. Why were there no self-help guides on how to deal with a zombie magpie for a brother? He was going to need more help to wrangle Adam into the venue. He reached into the pocket he kept his phone in and....oh, actually, that might work. He pulled out the bottle of nail polish. "I know you do. Look, I brought you some sparkly nail stuff; you can put it on Tommy."

Adam reached out his free hand to grab it, but years of playing _mine, keep away_ with Adam had given Neil _excellent_ reflexes, and he wasn't hampered by an armful of Tommy. "Nope, come on, I'll give it to you inside."

"Promise?"

"Yes." Neil held the polish out in front of him and walked in a big, backwards circle, using it like a lure. Thank _God_ the fans were looking the other way...Thank God.

 

  
**Rule Three: Keep shiny things handy to distract the zombie**   
`Zombies, like many creatures that like sparkly things, have a very short attention span; keep them interested and moving in the right direction by judicious use of glittery objects. May be worth experimenting with trails of actual glitter.`   


Neil handed Adam off to Sutan for his mystical sparkle application, and handed Tommy another towel. He really, seriously needed a beer; that had been _way_ too close a call. He leant against the corridor wall and slid down to sit on the floor. Adam's zombiness was turning him into an alcoholic.

He pulled Adam's phone from his pocket and thumbed through the contacts. _Brad_. Brad knew all about what was going on. Brad had come up with Sutan's magical, glittery cure. Brad would know how stop all of this shit.

"This is Cheeks, how may I sparkle over you today?" Oh, good. Brad was in one of his obnoxiously _cheerful_ moods.

"Brad."

"Awwwh, Neil, are you calling me for Adam? Will you transfer me now you've gotten through?"

"Much as I'm sure he'd love your sparkly braaaaainz, no, I'm not transferring you. I need to talk to you and he can damn well pay for it."

Brad giggled. "Ooooh, so negative, Neil. You're distressing my sparkle."

"He woke me up last night, slobbering in my ear, so yeah. Very fucking negative, fuck you very much."

"Now, now, I _know_ your mama raised you better than that."

Neil growled. It was very macho.

"You called me, sweetheart, remember? Play nice."

"Brad. Seriously, I don't know what the flying fuck you two did to get him into this state, and frankly I don't give a damn, but I need him out of it, now."

"No can do."

"What the _fuck_ do you mean, no can do? Is he stuck like this forever?"

"Uh-uh, but this was his plan, and it's working out just how he wanted."

"How he _wanted_!?"

"Sellout shows, the fans going wild? Majorly successful tour? Am I ringing any bells?"

"Yes, but..." Neil waved his free hand around, emphatically. It was impossible to convey everything about how completely fucking _demented_ everything was with just words.

"But nothing, honeybunch. It's what he wanted, it's what you're paid for, suck it up."

"SUCK IT FUCKING _UP_?! Brad you little shit, just tell..."

The phone had gone dead. Fucking Brad had fucking hung up on him.

Sutan came out of the dressing room and shook his head as Neil tried calling Brad back, again.

"He's not going to answer, honey."

"Huh?"

"Brad? He's not going to take your call right now."

"What the..." Neil ended the call. "But what if something was seriously wrong with Adam?"

"Then you'd leave a message, or I'd call him, but nothing is, so right now you need to get your ass on the phone to a _good_ florist and have them deliver a big bunch of expensive apologies."

"A_pol_ogies?"

"Yeah." Sutan slid down the wall and sat next to him. "You seriously think he'd let _anything_ bad happen to Adam? I know they're not together any more, but that boy loves Adam like air. You hurt his feelings."

"I...."

"You hurt his feelings, and you need to apologise. You signed up for this, remember."

"I signed up to _assist_."

"And you're assisting."

"A _zombie_."

"Yeah. It's why he knew he was safe to do it. Having you along to help."

Neil banged the back of his head gently off of the wall. He was young; beer wouldn't hurt him too much in moderation.

 

  
**Rule four: Don't Rub Your Mystic Guru up the Wrong Way**   
_A.K.A.: 'I'm sorry' flowers cost more than the down payment on a small house._   
`Brad is one of the most annoying people in the known universe, but he does actually have Adam's best interests at heart (probably). He's also one of the very, very few people who have the slightest clue as to what's going on and how to stop it so keeping him on side is wise.`   



End file.
